Come A Little Closer
by zizza24
Summary: A smut fic based on Dierks Bentley's 'Come A Little Closer.' I do not own NCIS nor do I own Dierks Bentley and his music. But the ideas are all mine.


His breath was hot on her skin.

They shouldn't be doing this. Their mission was simple: fly to Dallas, find their witness and fly back. It was as simple as their mission in Paris. But with her and Tony, alone in a hotel, in beautiful cities for one night with nothing else to do, nothing was ever simple. It happened the same way in Paris. They went out for dinner, came back to the hotel and sat around, talking. But talking led to crying. Crying led to comforting. The comforting led to friendly kissing, then deeper kissing. And next thing she knew, she found herself being pushed further than she had ever imagined by him, her hands grabbing sheets so hard, there were wrinkle marks left. She felt him inside of her and had to bite her lip so she didn't scream.

That was one year ago, almost to the day.

And here they were again, doing the same exact thing.

"Tony, we cannot do this." But his tongue slowly ran along her neck, giving her goosebumps.

She wasn't lying to him, though. Because for him, this was a one, well, two time thing. After tonight, they'd go back to being co-workers, partners. But for her, it'd mean so much more, just like it had last year. Ziva hadn't wanted the feelings to develop, but there was no stopping them. She was doing an excellent job keeping them to herself until it was announced she and Tony were flying to Paris for one night. Paris, the city of love. And after their night together, she thought he felt the same way.

But they returned to DC and he transformed into the same old Tony she had known for four years.

"Tony, please, don't."

She hated herself for stopping him, but she knew it was right. "I just cannot do this. Not here." But his lips were on hers and she didn't want to fight it, she didn't want to lose this feeling. Because last time this happened, _she lost it. _

His breath was on her skin again, but she was not fighting it anymore. She let her fingers get tangled within his hair, his fingers pulling off her jacket, and then her green tank top. She moved her hands down as he kissed her neck, her shoulders, her chest, her hands landing on his belt buckle. As he moved his lips back to hers, she unfastened the belt, and then freed the button of his pants, and she could feel him smiling against her.

She pushed his pants to the floor and he stepped out of them, leading them a few steps backwards to the bed as she fidgeted with the buttons on his shirt, their lips never parting once. He turned them around and laid her down on the bed, slowly, her hair spreading all around her face. She smiled at him as he took his shirt off and dropped it to the ground, their clothes leaving a short path from the balcony window to the bed.

He leaned down over her, leaving a trail of kisses from her lips to her stomach, before unbuttoning her pants and sliding them off, leaving her with very little fabric between her and him. Tony's tongue grazed her skin right above her panties before tracing a path back up to her lips. Ziva held him close to her, her arms wrapped around his neck as they kissed, his one arm behind her, trying to remove one of the last pieces of clothing. She sat up, making it easier and once he removed her bra, they slid back on the blankets and moved underneath, Ziva ready to let him in again.

He kept one hand in her hair, the other playing with the edge of her panties, teasing her. And as her panties slipped off, and he was inside of her again, the memories of Paris came flooding back. Her hands grasped at the sheets, clenching them as he pressed her to the bed. She bit at her lip, trying to keep herself from losing all control. And in that moment, she didn't care if they went back to being friends tomorrow. She didn't care if this was the last time she was ever going to be _with _him. Because in that moment, she _was _with him and that thought alone sent shivers up her spine.

Tony rolled off of her, both of them struggling to catch their breath, their bodies soaked in sweat. He turned his head and smiled at her, pressing one last kiss to her lips. "I don't want to do this anymore."

Her heart sank. "What?"

"I mean, sneak around," he said, propping himself on his elbow. "I don't want to just be with you on special assignments."

She exhaled a heavy breath. "So what do we do?"

He smiled, causing her to smile. But instead of answering, he rolled back on top of her, his hands once again tangling in her hair. She continued to smile as he pressed her against the bed again, her hands tangled in the sheets, because she was happy.

And she knew she would never lose this feeling again.


End file.
